Two Letters
by NovaleeSnape
Summary: The morning Harry is sent to collect the post, there are two unusual, but identical looking letters on the mat. One addressed to Mr H. Potter, the other to Mr D. Dursley.
1. Two Letters

_My first story - I have been looking for a fan fiction about this but not really found much. So resorted to writing my own. In fact the first story I have written since I was in primary school most likely! Please review with any tips / advice. Thanks._

'Get the post, Harry.'  
'Make Dudley get it.'  
'Poke him with your Smeltings stick, Dudley.'  
Harry dodged the Smeltings stick and went to get the post. Four things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was holidaying on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill and two identical heavy letters made of yellowish parchment, sealed with purple wax seals which bore a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake surrounding a large letter 'H'.  
Harry turned these envelopes over, curious as to what they may be, and was surprised to see his name staring back at him, in emerald green ink, from the front of the first envelope.

Mr H. Potter  
The Cupboard under the Stairs  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

He slid this envelope to the side to see the second one was addressed to:

Mr D. Dursley  
The Largest Bedroom  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

'Hurry up, boy!' shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. 'What are you doing, checking for letter-bombs?' He chuckled at his own joke.

Harry went back to the kitchen, staring at the letter addressed to him. He handed the postcard and the bill to Uncle Vernon, and, keeping hold of his own letter, placed the other one in front of Dudley. Harry then proceeded to sit down and begin opening his letter. Having never received a letter before, he wondered who would be writing to him.

Dudley looked up briefly from his bacon and eggs, clocked the letter in front of him, and glanced around the room, wondering where it had come from. He spotted Harry opening an identical letter and piped up immediately.

'Dad! Harry's got something!'

Uncle Vernon, who had been midway through reading the postcard from his sister, looked up. He saw Harry about to unfold the letter and leant over and snatched it from him.

'That's _mine!_' said Harry, trying unsuccessfully to snatch it back. 10 years in this house had taught him that trying to snatch anything back from anyone would be unsuccessful, be it now, with Uncle Vernon and this letter or 7 years ago with Dudley and the teddy bear that he had discarded. Harry had managed to play with it for a whole five minutes before Dudley had seen him and decided that, actually, it was his favourite toy and he simply must have it back.

'Who'd be writing to you? Sneered Uncle Vernon, bringing Harry back to the moment, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the greyish white of old porridge.

'P-P-Petunia!' he gasped.

As Petunia curiously looked around from the kitchen counter, Dudley read aloud:

'Dear Mr Dursley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

As you are not of Wizarding parentage, I shall visit you and your family at 6pm this evening to discuss this matter further.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress'

Dudley looked up from the letter, first at his father, then at his mother. 'What is this Dad? Mum?'

If there were a paler colour uncle Vernon could have gone, this was the time he would do it. He looked as if he was about to faint. Aunt Petunia clasped a hand to her mouth and gasped. She snatched the letter from Dudley's hand and shepherded him and Harry towards the kitchen door, taking a crisp twenty pound note from her favourite beige purse and thrusting it into Dudley's hand. 'Both of you, out! Go to the cinema, or to the amusement arcade.'

'But mum, what did that letter mean?' Dudley questioned her.  
'I want to see _my_ letter!' Harry demanded, frustrated with himself for not having opened it in the hallway where no-one was watching him.

'Out!' Aunt Petunia repeated sounding panicked, yet still speaking very quietly, after all, she didn't want the neighbours to hear raised voices. She nudged them out of the door and closed it with a click.

Harry and Dudley looked at each other, stumped. Harry had never been told to go _anywhere_ with his cousin, nevermind with money. He half expected Dudley to ditch him and go and find Piers to spend the money with. Dudley, however, looked shocked and confused. It was often Harry kicked out of the house to 'go somewhere' – never Dudley! This was a first for him and he didn't like it one bit. He looked back at the house angrily, then at the twenty pound note in his hand, shrugged and began to walk towards the town. Harry, being much smaller than Dudley, had to jog slightly to keep up. It was he who broke the silence first.

'Do you think my letter said the same as yours?' He panted, slightly out of breath.

'I don't know. Dad read it and was really shocked. But mine said I am a wizard. I don't know why dad would be shocked about that – he would be proud. I imagine he is angry because yours said you are a bad wizard. Or a witch.' Dudley guffawed at his own joke.

'Well I think they would be the same, I mean, the envelopes were the same' Harry pointed out reasonably, ignoring Dudley's joke.

They had fallen more in step with each other by this point, Harry on Dudley's left hand side, in Piers Polkiss' usual spot. This would have seemed very unusual to Harry, and to Dudley as well, had they not both been so pre-occupied by the letters they had received in the post that morning.

They walked towards the town in silence for a few more minutes until Dudley spoke up.

'I always knew there was something special about me. A wizard sounds about right!'

Harry snickered at this, Dudley was always so vain.

'What are you laughing at Potter? I suppose you think you'll make a better wizard than me?'

This did make Harry stop laughing. A wizard. Him? He couldn't be.

'Perhaps this is some trick your parents are playing on us?' He ventured, almost hopefully.

Dudley thought for a moment. 'I don't think so, they have never played a trick before – in fact, Dad hates magicians. He definitely wouldn't. Maybe that's why he is so angry. He hates magic. Remember the time you told him you had a dream about a flying motorcycle? He nearly crashed the car, he was so angry. That was quite funny though, he was so mad with you!'

'Yeah, it was a riot.' Harry said, sarcastically.

They had reached the amusement arcade by this point and Dudley had dashed inside to change the twenty pound note into twenty pence pieces so he could play the shooting games. Harry didn't hold out much hope of getting a go himself, so he sat down on an empty car racing seat next to Dudley. Dudley seemed to have forgotten the mornings events the moment he walked into the amusement centre. Harry hadn't.

oOoOoOo

Meanwhile, back at number 4 Privet Drive conversation was struggling between Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.

'But why not Vernon?' Petunia almost pleaded.

'You said they are freaks Petunia!' He retorted. 'You told me so yourself! Why else have we been trying to stamp this out of Harry all these years?'

Petunia didn't know what to say. She couldn't tell Vernon the real reason. She was jealous. She always had been jealous of her sister Lily, since the day she had received her Hogwarts letter. But she had never considered that Dudley might be the same. It had never even crossed her mind. But Dudley _could_ go to Hogwarts, he had even been sent a letter of his own, just as she had wanted for herself all those years ago. It went against everything she had believed in the last 20 years, but she almost wanted Dudley to have what she was never able to have.

'I- I think I want Dudley to attend that school Vernon.' She stammered out. Petunia wasn't a strong woman, and had never opposed anything Vernon had said in the past, but she had to try this time.

'It's out of the question!' He roared in response. Petunia tried not to shake so visibly, she had never seen him this angry, or rather, she had never been of the receiving end of his anger. It was terrifying. Did he ever get this angry with Harry, she wondere. No, she quickly reassured herself that he didn't, and if he did, it was because Harry was such a naughty child and needed a firm hand to discipline him.

Vernon was still ranting and raving. 'He is going to Smeltings! Finest school in the country! It was good enough for me and it's good enough for Dudley.'

He looked again at the two letters lying on the kitchen top. Slightly different in their text, Harry's said nothing about anyone coming to visit them. He briefly wondered why that was before realising Petunia was speaking.

'…and my sister did always seem so happy when she was a student there.' It pained Petunia to say this, as for years she had pretended she didn't have a sister. But it was true, she knew it deep down but the jealousy had always caused her to cover it up and pretend she knew nothing of that world. Not an easy feat when Harry himself had eyes so similar to those of her sister and she had to see those eyes every day.

Vernon spoke, his voice somewhat softened, almost pleading, 'But love, our Dudley isn't a freak, he's a good lad! Not one for this nonsense at all! You saw how fine he looked in his new school uniform last night.'

'I know Vernon, but perhaps we should just meet this – this,' she squinted at one of the letters '_McGonagall_, and hear what she has to say?' Petunia looked hopefully up at Vernon. 'Please Vernon?'

'I don't like it Petunia, I don't like it one bit – you know I don't like this nonsense.' He looked down at her face, peering up at him hopefully and remembered briefly why he asked her to marry him all those years ago, 'But I suppose we can just meet her if it will make you feel better?'

oOoOoOo

Harry and Dudley returned home just before 5pm. The money all gone, they had decided they ought to go home and demand to know where their letters were now.

'Mum!' Dudley yelled upon walking into the house, Harry just behind him, hidden by Dudley's vast size.

'Oh good, you're back.' Petunia walked down the hall to greet her son.

'Where's my…' Dudley started before his mum cut him off mid sentence.

'Dudley, go and get showered and put on your smartest outfit, the lovely little suit you wore to Mr and Mrs Jacobs wedding,' she pulled him into the house revealing Harry standing behind him, in his baggy t-shirt and jeans held up with a belt he had had to make extra holes in to fit him.

'Oh, Harry, perhaps you should, erm, well, go and sort out your hair and I will find you something smart to wear as well.'

Harry was taken aback by the whole sentence his aunt had just spoken to him. Firstly, she called him Harry, something she only usually did for appearances sake when they had company. Secondly she had told him she would find him a smart outfit. Harry had never had a 'smart' outfit before, so was intrigued what she had got hidden away which could possibly look smart on him.

He thought back to the morning, 'I shall visit you and your family at 6pm this evening to discuss this matter further.' The letter had said. Harry assumed that they would be having a visitor, and not just any visitor, but a witch! So he dashed upstairs not far behind Dudley to try and dampen his hair into order before Dudley could get into the bathroom.

Petunia went into the spare room and pulled out a bin liner filled with clothes of about Harry's size which had been given to her only the week before by a lady at the school PTA which she was a member of. The lady, Carole Jones', son had just had a growth spurt and couldn't possibly fit into the clothes anymore, and she had kindly thought of Harry, so much smaller than the other boys in their class at school. Petunia had graciously accepted the cast offs whilst being mortified that someone thought that she, Petunia Dursley, was someone who needed cast off clothes to get by. Harry didn't deserve such nice clothes anyway, so she had put them up there meaning to get rid of them at the earliest opportunity. But now she thanked her stars that she hadn't gotten around to it yet. She rifled through the bag and found a pair of black school trousers and a pale blue shirt which looked as though they should look smart on Harry.

She took the clothes downstairs to Harry in his cupboard and told him to get dressed quickly and them come to the kitchen to help her prepare some snacks for the evening. As much of a epiphany she had had earlier in the day in regards to her sister, it would take some time to change old habits when it came to Harry.

6pm approached and Petunia had changed into a pale green cocktail dress and pinned her hair up as best as her shaking hands allowed. She couldn't explain it to herself, but the anticipation of this guest was almost akin to excitement. Perhaps this was how Lily had felt all those years ago when she was visited by a member of the school, in fact…Petunia tried to think back, may it have been the same witch? McGonagall? Perhaps she would remember upon meeting her.

Vernon had changed as well, grumbling all the while about not needing to impress anyone, yet he certainly dressed to impress, wearing a navy blue suit, with a crisp white shirt and red tie.

Petunia looked everyone over, feeling a surge of pride at Dudley in his suit, checked shirt and black tie. Such a little gentleman he looked. Then her eyes fell on Harry, hair all over the shop and looking uncomfortable in such well fitting clothes. No tie. He wasn't wearing a tie! He didn't own a tie of course! She glanced at the clock – 17:56 – they had time. She didn't want anyone thinking Harry was treated differently to Dudley.

'Diddykins, run upstairs and fetch me one of your ties, a navy blue one.' she all but screamed out.

'But I like the black one mum,' Dudley whined.

'It's not for you, it's for Harry.'

Harry looked startled, a tie? Wow, they did want to impress this lady!

'I'm not letting Harry wear one of my ties! He'll get germs on it!' Dudley complained.

'Do as your mother says Dudley,' barked Uncle Vernon impatiently from his spot pacing in the hallway.

Dudley trudged upstairs to retrieve the tie whilst Aunt Petunia dragged Harry into the kitchen to try and flatten his hair a bit with some water from the tap. Harry's hair had always been this way – awkward. She held him back and sighed – it would have to do. As she lead him back to the hallway, Dudley lumbered down the stairs, 'I could only find a green one.' He offered the tie to his mother.

'Oh it'll have to do,' snapped Petunia, sounding exasperated, but snatching the tie all the same. She tied it quickly and expertly and was just straightening it when there was a knock at the door.

Petunia straightened up and headed for the door, when Vernon stepped in and said 'I'll get it love, stand back. We don't know what we're dealing with here.'

The door opened and a tall lady was standing there, she was wearing an emerald green cloak and a pointy green hat. Vernon recoiled slightly, was this too much for him? There was silence for a moment.

'Please, come in.' Petunia ventured.


	2. Professor McGonagall

'Harry, don't stare!' snapped Petunia, followed by a sudden shrill laugh when she realised she may have let her caring persona slip. 'It's not polite.' she added, trying to soften the initial impact of her words.

Harry let it slip, it wasn't the strangest behaviour he had seen from his aunt during the course of the day and he was fairly sure it wouldn't be the last. He had to admit that he was fascinated by this lady who had arrived in their house though. She was very imposing, but had a kind face.

'Hello, thank you for inviting me into your lovely home,' she began to speak with quite a strong Scottish lilt to her accent. 'My name is Minerva McGonagall and I am the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'

The silence in the room thickened as those words were uttered. Words Harry, at least, thought he would never hear under the roof of number 4 Privet Drive. Minerva McGonagall did not seem to notice, or if she did, she chose to ignore the atmosphere in the little entrance hall.

'Of course, that makes me Professor McGonagall to you two young bairns.' She said, glancing down at Harry and Dudley.

'M-May I take your erm…' Petunia looked around for help – what was the woman wearing? It could hardly be called a coat. Is 'wrap' the appropriate word she wondered?

'My cloak?' Professor McGonagall saved Aunt Petunia's embarrassment. 'Why, thank you.' She unclasped a gold buckle adorned with a lion which had a tiny ruby eye, from the neck of the emerald cloak and with a swish, took the cloak from around her shoulders. Underneath the cloak she wore robes in a slighter darker shade of green than the emerald of the cloak she was now handing to Aunt Petunia. She also removed her hat, and underneath her greying hair was pulled up tight into a bun on the top of her head. Aunt Petunia reached out to take the hat and hung it on a peg near the door along with the cloak.

Harry was sure no one dressed like this had ever stepped foot into this house, and, glancing at Uncle Vernon, wasn't sure they would ever again. Uncle Vernon's face was slowly turning red with incredulity at the cheek someone may have to dress in the way Professor McGonagall had dared to dress.

'Shall we?' Aunt Petunia gestured to the sitting room and every headed in there and took a seat. Professor McGonagall sat at one end of the sofa, Aunt Petunia, the opposite end, leaving plenty of space between them. Harry settled on the floor in his usual spot and Dudley tried to squeeze between his mother and Professor McGonagall.

'Dudley, sit next to Harry, there's a good lad.' His father told him, not wanting Dudley sitting quite so close to their new visitor. He was keeping station near the closed curtained window. It was still daylight outside but Uncle Vernon twitched the curtains, just to make sure they were fully closed.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. 'I trust you read the letters this morning and therefore know why I am here?'

'Oh yes, we read those alright.' rumbled Uncle Vernon. 'So, what is all of this about? I can assure you that our Dudley is no _wizard.' _he spat out the final word of his statement.

'Oh but he is Mr Dursley, I assure you that much. As is young Mr Potter here. I visit the families of all muggle born wizards and witches to explain about our world. It is imperative these boys attend Hogwarts, as we at teach students to control magic which may not be controlled should they not attend. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that untrained magic could lead to disastrous consequences.'

Vernon Dursley did not like being told what was going to happen – if he reached the decision himself, fine. But he did not like being told at all.

'Well, I will decide who is going where, thank you very much.' was all he could think of to retort at that moment in time.

Professor McGonagall did not respond to that comment. She had to speak to many muggle families about their children attending Hogwarts, and she had had much worse responses before now.

'What's a muggle?' piped up Dudley from his position on the carpet next to Harry. Harry nodded in agreement to Dudley's question. He had wondered the same thing himself, but had been too shy to speak up in front of this slightly intimidating witch.

'A muggle is what we call non magical people. Dudley, you are muggle born, as neither of your parents are magical. Harry, you are not, as both your mother and father were magical.'

Harry's jaw dropped. His parents had been magical? Why didn't he know that? He looked questioningly up at his aunt. Dudley did the same, this was news to him!

Aunt Petunia shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. 'She is right Harry, my sister, your mother, was a witch. We never said anything as, we-we-' she looked up at Vernon for help, but he merely shrugged, 'we didn't want you to feel different.' she concluded, lamely. A poor excuse, but one they would have to stick to from now on.

Professor McGonagall looked around the room, slightly confused. 'Well,' she said, unsurely, 'you know now, both of you do.'

'How rude of me, I haven't offered you a refreshment!' Aunt Petunia leapt out of her seat. 'Tea? Coffee? Something a little stronger perhaps?' she asked the Professor.

'Tea would be wonderful please, black with one sugar.'

Aunt Petunia bustled to the kitchen, Uncle Vernon not far behind her.

The two boys sat on the floor, looking up at the Professor, a little nervously.

'Now don't be worrying lads, you will be fine. Hogwarts is a fantastic school, you will both be very happy there. I will tell you a bit more about it in a few moments, but for now would you like to have a look over the lists of what you need to take with you to Hogwarts?'

They both nodded eagerly – what do you take to a magical school? A top hat and a pair of doves?

From the front of her robe, she pulled out what looked like a branch from a tree. She waved it once and two pieces of parchment appeared in the air in front of her. She caught them deftly and handed them to Harry and Dudley who took a moment to respond and take them. They were both in awe of what she had just done. So that was magic! And that must be a magic wand, not like what you saw on the TV at all.

oOoOoOo

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Vernon and Petunia were talking hurriedly in hushed whispers.

'No Petunia, I won't have it.' Vernon was quietly fuming. 'Remember? Remember that morning you found him on the doorstep with nothing but a note? We said none of that funny business would be happening or he'd be gone. Gone to the orphanage, or workhouse or whatever it's called these days.

'And now this! He's obviously had some effect on our Dudley! This hasn't come from my side of the family Petunia.'

Petunia was throwing some tea bags into a china teapot Vernon's sister had given them for their wedding. Petunia never had liked it and only used it when Marge was visiting or for when she needed to impress someone like tonight. 'It was always a possibility Vernon, I can't believe I haven't considered it before, or even noticed that our Dudley is, well, different. Remember when he wanted to be the head of the donkey in the school play, but was cast as the back half?'

Vernon grimaced at the memory 'The poor lad who was the front half would only bray for weeks and Dudley got to be the head of the donkey.'

'And what about the time Harry took his little tractor from him? I know we had all that correspondence with the manufacturers, but I never did think it burst into flames all on its own.'

'Is this the untrained magic the woman in there is speaking of? If so, she is right, it is dangerous Vernon – Dudley needs to be taught what he's doing before more things like that happen.' Petunia hissed at Vernon, trying to be as quiet as possible. She could hear voices from the front room and wasn't overly happy about leaving the boys unattended with the witch.

'And what about Potter? I am not paying for him to go to some fancy school and laze about.'

'Maybe they have funding for orphaned children? We can ask her, I am sure there will be some support, we can't very well send Dudley and not Harry. I cannot see that woman in there leaving without a fuss Vernon. Anyway, just think, he'd be out of our hair for 9 months of the year.'

Vernon visibly brightened at the thought of this. 'Good think Petal.'

Petunia smiled briefly at his use of his pet name for her. 'So we are agreed? They can both go?'

'I want to hear a lot more about this place before I am sending Dudley off there to learn magic tricks. But assuming there is no danger, and our Dudley stands a good chance of coming out with good career prospects then I suppose it is fine with me.'

'What do wizards do for work anyway? Children's parties?'

Petunia pursed her lips at Vernon's joke. She loaded up the tray with the tea, cups and saucers, and a glass of orange juice for Dudley. Pausing for a moment, she poured a second glass of juice for Harry and added it to the tray. Picking the whole lot up, she headed back to the lounge, where Harry and Dudley were talking animatedly, and pointing at pieces of parchment they were holding onto. Well, that was a sight; she had never seen the boys like that before, talking to each other. It was quite a nice sight really, one she wished she had seen years before. But she knew it was hers and Vernon's fault that it never was before today.

'Mum!' Dudley exclaimed excitedly, 'We get to have a wand! Just like the Professor!' He was beaming, as was Harry. The Professor smiled kindly down at them.

Smiling at her son, Petunia placed the tray on the wooden coffee table and poured tea for the adults. Dudley grabbed his juice and Petunia had to pass the second glass of juice to a slightly bewildered looking Harry who took it somewhat warily, but said a polite 'thank you' all the same.

'So, if we may get down to business?' the Professor ventured, once Petunia had taken her seat again.

'As you have already gathered, there is a magical world, running alongside the 'normal' world which you live in. Now, Petunia, I knew your sister and I don't want to preach to the choir, so please tell me if I am telling you things you already know. ' Petunia nodded, not sure what to say. She did know a fair bit about the magical world, but she had supressed this knowledge for so many years she thought it may be useful to hear again, and for Vernon's sake as well as the boys.

'Well we are obviously hidden from the muggle world, and we don't like people to know about us, as I am sure you understand, the witch hunts of centuries past taught us non-magical beings do not respond well to knowing of our presence.

'Hogwarts is centuries old itself, having housed some of the finest and brightest wizards of every era. The school is split into four houses, each house valuing something different in their students. Whilst in school the boys will sleep in house dormitories, eat meals with their house mates, and study alongside them as well.'

'Your house at Hogwarts,' she directed to Harry and Dudley, 'will be like your family. If you behave well and study hard, you will earn points for your house, but if you misbehave, you will lose points. At the end of each year, the house with the most points wins the House Cup, which is a great honour for that particular house.'

Harry gulped – he was always getting into trouble at school, for things beyond his control usually. He hoped he wouldn't lose any points for his house.

'Will Harry and Dudley be in the same house?' Uncle Vernon asked, clinging to the hope that Dudley may barely see Harry once at school if they were to be in different houses.

'That remains to be seen,' the professor replied 'the students will be sorted into houses upon arrival at Hogwarts. The houses are; Gryffindor, who pride themselves on brave, daring and chivalrous house members; Ravenclaw, who value intelligence, knowledge and wit; Slytherin whose members are ambitious, cunning and resourceful and Hufflepuff who are hard workers, patient and loyal.'

The boys both thought for a moment. Dudley fancied himself as being brave and daring, and thought Gryffindor sounded like the house for him, whereas Harry thought Ravenclaw would be good, if he was given chance to study and fit in, or perhaps Hufflepuff as he was certainly a hard worker, and it would be nice to have friends who were loyal.

Vernon thought Slytherin would be a good house for Dudley, who wouldn't want their child to be ambitious? He wanted to Dudley to do the very best, and it sounds like this, Slytherin, would be the place to begin.

The Professor continued, 'We teach a wide range of subjects in the first year. Potions, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Flying and Transfiguration, my subject.'

Dudley and Harry's facing lit up when she mentioned flying, whereas Aunt Petunias face fell at the sound of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

'Dark Arts? Is this something we should be worried about?' She looked worriedly at Vernon.

'Not at all,' reassured Professor McGonagall, 'It is more tradition than anything else, but it is important that students learn how to defend themselves should they ever need to. Better to be prepared just in case.'

'I have papers here instructing you where to go to buy school materials, as they can't just be purchased at your supermarket of course,' she allowed herself a smile, and handed a sheet of parchment over to Petunia. 'You need to find the Leaky Cauldron on Charing Cross Road in London, the boys should be able to see it no problems. Ask for Tom the barman and tell them you have new Hogwarts students. He will let you on to the Alley where you can buy all you need. It should be quite an eye opener really! Did you never visit with your sister Petunia?'

'No, I never did, although I often wanted to.' Petunia breathed, taken back to a memory of lying on her bed crying after her father had left with Lily to buy her school things. She had sulked as she had never received a letter from Hogwarts herself and refused to go and see how happy Lily was.

'Well, now is your chance.' The Professor smiled. 'I suggest you go in the next week or so as it can get so busy in the build-up to the start of term.'

'Ahem.' Uncle Vernon cleared his throat. Harry jumped a little, he had almost forgotten he was there, standing behind Dudley and himself. 'How are we supposed to pay for all of this?' he asked the witch.

'Well, you can exchange money into wizarding currency at Gringotts the bank when you arrive, look for the large white building.' she informed him.

'No, I mean, we can afford to pay for Dudley, but what about Harry? I am sure you understand that we never planned on two children and this will get expensive paying for the both of them.'

Harry looked crushed – were they not going to pay for him to go? He had allowed himself to get so excited he had almost forgotten what life was like with the Dursley's. He should have known better.

'Oh, I see,' said the Witch, looking around uncomfortably. 'Well, we do have a school fund for underprivileged children, but I assure you the cost of these things is not astronomical. You appear to have a comfortable lifestyle here Mr. Dursley, I am sure you can manage. If you cannot, then I suggest you write to the school and request the appropriate paperwork.'

'Whilst on that subject, it may be worth picking up an owl whilst you are in the Alley. We use them for sending letters and post, and it would be an extremely useful way for you to keep in touch with the boys whilst they are at school, and to contact the school should you need.'

Vernon looked shocked – an owl? Not a bloody chance, not in his house! Imagine the mess!

The boys however, had looked between each other delightedly at the sound of this!

'The train for school leaves at 11am on the first of September from Kings Cross Station – platform nine and three quarters…' she was reading from a list now, ticking off things which she needed to have told the family.

'Which platform was that sorry?' Aunt Petunia asked her, not sure she had heard correctly. Had this woman really said platform nine and three quarters?

'Nine and three quarters' McGonagall repeated. 'Oh yes, of course, I must tell you how to get there! Run directly at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. If you get there by about 10:30 you will not doubt see other families travelling through as well.'

Now Petunia thought about it, it did ring a bell – Lily must have told her about it when they were children.

'Well, I think that is all you need to know for now. Was there anything you wanted to ask me in particular?' the Professor asked the boys.

There was so much more they wanted to know, but how do you ask when you don't know the question? So they both shook their heads.

'I suggest a few extra books for background reading, I have written them on the parchment I gave you. They will be of interest to you, and give you a lot more information about our world.

'But for now I think that is enough.' she rose from her place on the sofa; everyone else followed suit and stood as well. Harry had almost forgotten how strangely she was dressed until his aunt bought her cloak and hat and handed them back.

'Well, thank you for coming around,' Aunt Petunia said, gracious as ever. The Professor nodded her thanks as she stepped over the threshold and turned and said to the boys, 'I will see you on the first of September'.

She walked to the end of the garden, turned, and was gone.


	3. Changes at Number 4

After the Professor had left, Harry and Dudley were sent to bed; Dudley trampled up the stairs to his bedroom and fell asleep instantly. Harry closed his cupboard door after himself, thinking he would never be able to sleep after all he had learnt during the day, but, exhausted by the day's events, he quickly slipped into dreams filled with flying broomsticks and magic wands.

Vernon and Petunia sat up late into the night with much to discuss.

'Have we done Harry badly Vernon?' worried Petunia, the revelations of the day taking their toll on her.

'Not at all Petunia, we gave him a roof over his head and clothes on his back, he should be grateful to us!'

'But imagine if it had been Dudley, our little innocent Dudley, who had been left on my sister's doorstep. She would have treated him like a son of her own, I am sure of it. She was always so kind…' Petunia let a tear slip, and stifled a sob. She had never cried for the loss of her sister, so far hidden in jealousy, she was, that it just wasn't possible to admit what she was now realising. She missed her. She missed her before she had died but had been too proud to admit it. Why had it taken for now, for her own son's ability to show, to make her see?

'I think we need to change Vernon – I think we might be bad people.'

Vernon moved to sit by his wife and placed a comforting arm around her. 'What are you taking about Petunia? We aren't bad people – quite the opposite – we took in the boy when no one else wanted him. We are decent, noble people! And our Dudders, he has shared our attention with the boy, never heard him complain about it once!'

'Well, let's see how things go, but I have been thinking tonight – the whole time that woman was here, I was so worried Harry would show her where he sleeps. And really Vernon,' she rose her voice slightly against Vernon's spluttered mutterings ('he should be ruddy thanking us for it'), 'he is getting too big for that cupboard, by the time he has had a growth spurt he will never fit in it. What about moving him into Dudley's second room? Or the guest room?'

'Absolutely not the guest room! Where will Marge stay when she visits? That is not going to happen Petunia – and Dudley needs his second room for storage.' was Vernon's choked response. What had gotten into his wife tonight? He had never seen her like this.

'When was the last time you saw Dudley even go into that second bedroom Vernon? Because the only time I have seen that door opened is when he is throwing a toy in there – never retrieving one. With a good sort out, a trip to the charity shop with some donations, that room will do nicely for Harry.' Petunia knew donating a few toys to charity wouldn't make up for all the bad Karma she had acquired these past ten years, but she had to start somewhere.

And so the conversation continued into the night. Harry sleeping in his cupboard heard nothing of their plans and did not know that he was sleeping in there for the final time.

oOoOoOo

Harry Potter awoke, wondering where he was for a moment. The high, white ceiling, the blue lightshade with trains going around it; it all looked vaguely familiar but he couldn't place himself. Reaching out for his glasses, he pressed them to his eyes. Then he smiled. Of course, this was taking some getting used to. He was in his new bedroom.

It had been a week ago when Aunt Petunia came into his cupboard and told him he was to move his things up there. He remembered, because it was the morning after the Professor had left. He had wanted to ask what was happening, but knew that you don't ask questions of Aunt Petunia. So he had gathered his meager possessions; a few sets of baggy clothes, a handful of broken crayons and pencils, took his drawings down from the walls and followed her upstairs.

She had entered Dudley's second bedroom. Harry paused on the landing. Was she for real? Did Dudley know about this?

From downstairs he heard a wail.

'But it's my room! I need that room! Make him get out!'

Yes – Dudley knew about it.

Harry knew better than to argue with his aunt though, and followed her into the surprisingly bare room. All of Dudley's broken toys were piled into black bin liners on the floor. A few fairy-tale books were on the shelf, accompanied by a pocketsize dictionary, an encyclopaedia and an unused writing set, given to Dudley last year for his birthday by his parents with hopes he would write thank you letters. On the small dresser there were some old jigsaw puzzles, the top one depicting a flowery cottage, a Rubik's cube with peeling stickers and a few other knick-knacks. In the corner nearest the door was a bed with faded blue bedding sitting in a neat pile on top.

Harry couldn't believe his luck. A bed! A bed which he could sleep in, or sit on. He couldn't sit on his bed in the cupboard, as he kept banging his head on the slanted ceiling.

He looked up at his Aunt, not sure whether this was a joke.

'Go on then, get your bed made.' was all she had said, nodding towards the bed in the corner.

As she had turned to leave the room, she looked back and, as an after though, placed one of the black binliners next to Harrys new bed, then turned and left the room.

Looking in the bag, Harry found pairs of jeans, t-shirts, jumpers and more clothes which all looked to be the perfect size for him.

He sat down on his bed, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Oh yes – things were changing in the Dursley household. Slowly - nothing an outsider would notice, but Harry and Dudley were not outsiders and they noticed all the little changes.

oOoOoOoOo

That Tuesday evening, Harry and Dudley were called into the kitchen where Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon stood at the counter, parchment laid out in front of them.

'So, I suppose we had better go and buy these things you need for school then?' Uncle Vernon spoke, indicating the parchment with an incline of his head.

Dudley looked at Harry in excitement. As much as Dudley had tormented Harry, this was something they were going through together, and Dudley couldn't exactly call his friends to talk about it (having been forbidden to do so by his mother).

'We will go in the morning, I have booked the day off work and we will catch the first train up to London. I'm not taking my new car up there, it'll be vandalised no doubt – rough city that it is.'

Petunia rolled her eyes ever so slightly at this – Vernon and that car – she was sure he would have it sleeping by him in bed at night if he could.

'So off to bed, we will have to be up very early and it will be a long day no doubt.' Aunt Petunia said, herding the boys towards the stairs.

'Sweet dreams Dudley.' she said, planting a kiss on Dudleys cheek which he proceeded to wipe off immediately.

As the boys were walking up stairs Harry thought he heard his name whispered. Turning around, he saw his Aunt swish back to the kitchen. Perhaps he imagined it.

As Harry was getting into bed, having brushed his teeth, there was a knock at his bedroom door.

'Erm, come in?' Harry ventured. Having never been shown such courtesy before, he didn't know what the accepted response was.

Dudley sidled around the door, well perhaps sidled is the wrong word given Dudley's size, but he did attempt the movements of a sidle.

'Are you excited for tomorrow?' he burst out at Harry. 'I can't wait to get a magic wand! Think of how much fun it is going to be! It said on that letter that we can take an owl, cat or toad; I hope dad will buy me one. I wonder which I should get – what will you get?'

This was all said very hurriedly. Dudley seemed to have forgotten his usual feelings towards Harry in his excitement. Harry smiled a little, almost wishing this could be considered normal for them both. It would certainly have made his life a lot easier had Dudley treated him as an equal.

'I don't think I will get any of them, I don't think your Dad will buy me one as well as you.' Harry said, slightly sadly, although it was the truth. He would be lucky if Uncle Vernon bought him the school supplies he needed, never mind anything extra to that.

'Oh,' Dudley seemed slightly embarrassed. 'Well it will be nice to choose our wands and everything.'

Harry smiled at Dudley. It would be nice to have someone to go with, that was providing Dudley's nice guy persona was still making an appearance the next day.

After a silence, Dudley asked, 'Do you think we will be in the same house?' If Harry hadn't known better he might have thought Dudley sounded nervous.

'Perhaps.' was the non-committal answer he gave. He secretly hoped they weren't in the same house. Harry didn't want to leave Privet Drive to be living with Dudley again. It would be fantastic to be away from Dudley – to get a fresh start.

'You know,' said Dudley, looking around the room, 'I don't mind you having this room now. My mum was right – I never used it anyway.'

At that moment Harry's door swung open and Aunt Petunia walked in, a slightly confused look on her face.

'I thought I heard voices up here. Bedtime Dudley, or you'll be tired tomorrow.'

Dudley left the room, bidding Harry a goodnight, followed by Aunt Petunia who closed the door shut behind her.

Well, thought Harry, that was the strangest conversation he had ever had with Dudley. He had seemed genuinely embarrassed when he had quizzed Harry about which pet he would get. Maybe he just didn't realise how bad it was for Harry here.

Harry fell asleep with one last comforting thought – either way; there was a 1 in 4 chance he would barely have to see Dudley once they were at Hogwarts.

oOoOoOo

Number 4 Privet Drive awoke the next morning to a beautiful day. Sun streaming through the cracks in the curtains and birds chattering to each other in their trees.

Inside was far from the calm picture painted outside. Petunia was out of her depth here – what did one wear to go shopping for spell books? They didn't own any clothes like the Professor – the only thing remotely similar was a sweeping violet ball gown she had worn to a charity ball a few years back, but even Petunia knew that she would look ridiculous catching the train on a Wednesday morning wearing a ball gown. She opted for a simple pencil skirt and pale pink ruffled blouse. Not too dressy, not too casual.

The boys were told to dress in smart jeans and t-shirts. Harry had fun going through his 'new' clothes and trying out different combinations. He settled for dark blue jeans and a red and white stripy t-shirt. Dudley wore similar jeans but with a long sleeved brown t shirt.

As they got into the car to head for the train station, Uncle Vernon, dressed in one of his trademark suits, cleared his throat.

'Right, Potter, no funny business from you today, we need to make a good impression you hear me?'

'Vernon!' Petunia reprimanded him, under her breath, although Harry and Dudley heard her and gave each other confused glances.

'Everyone got their seatbelts on? Right, let's go!' cried a nearly hysterical Aunt Petunia.

After an hours train journey and 20 minutes on the Underground they found themselves walking down Charing Cross Road.

'Right,' said Uncle Vernon, shaking out the piece of parchment in front of him. 'Professor McGonagall said that our Dudley will be able to see this place –' he squinted at the parchment 'The Leaky Cauldron.' No mention to Harry, but Harry was used to it – he just let it slide over him.

So off they went down the Road – Harry in awe at his surroundings. He had never been to London before. Dudley had been many times, but Harry was always left with Mrs Figg and her clowder of cats. He couldn't believe how tall the buildings were, the noise, the people – so many people!

Suddenly Dudley shouted out 'There it is!' and Harry shifted his glance from a big display board advertising something called 'Chicago', to look at where Dudley pointed. There, sandwiched between a bookshop and record shop he saw a grotty looking pub. It seemed an unusual place for a pub, especially such a run down looking pub.

'Where Dudley?' his mother asked, staring right at the Leaky Cauldron.

'There! Right in front of us!' Dudley waggled his pudgy arm around, as if that would help his mother to see.

'I see it too.' Harry confirmed Dudley wasn't imagining things.

'Point it out then boy.' challenged Uncle Vernon.

Harry did as he was told and, standing next to Dudley, pointed at the Leaky Cauldron.

Petunia and Vernon exchanged a bewildered, but slightly worried look before realising Dudley was half way across the road. Dashing after him, the Dursleys and Harry found themselves right in front of the entrance to the pub. At this point, when standing directly outside the Leaky Cauldron, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were able to see.

'Well! It could do with a good scrubbing!' was all Aunt Petunia was able to splutter out.

Before they knew it, Dudley had pulled the heavy brass handled door open and headed inside. Petunia dashed after him, followed by Uncle Vernon. Harry caught the door which Uncle Vernon had failed to keep open for him, took a deep breath, and followed them inside.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Leaky Cauldron

_A/N - Thank you all for the support - I am overwhelmed! I am really enjoying writing this story. I hope you enjoy this next chapter and I am looking forward to writing about Diagon Alley!_

It took Harry's eyes a few moments to adjust from the sunny streets of London to the gloominess inside the Leaky Cauldron. Finally they adjusted and he was able to look around. Harry had never been in a 'normal' pub, so did not know how this compared, but it looked very impressive, if a little intimidating.

They had walked into a large room which stretched out on both sides of the entrance. To his right were lots of old, round, wooden tables of varying sizes, with a mismatch of chairs, stools and foot poufs scattered around them. On each table was a candlestick with three lit candles of varying heights lodged in the top. There were a few shadowy figures huddled around a couple of these tables, but Harry couldn't see well enough in the dim-light of the pub to make out much more than that. A large bar stretched out to the left of the door, dusty glasses stacked on shelves behind it, beer taps which looked like they would be very difficult to use, given how much grime was on them, and a faded sign advertising something called 'Firewhiskey'. At this bar sat a few people. Well, people may not be the right word. There was an old woman, nearly bent in two with old age. Harry didn't think he had ever seen anyone who looked so old before. A little man with a violet top hat who was nursing a small glass with an amber liquid in it and the biggest man Harry had ever seen. He must have been a giant, he was at least twice as tall as Uncle Vernon, had a great messy, brown beard and big, bushy, brown hair which stuck out wildly about his face. He had a large tankard in his hands with something frothy inside. The giant was engaged in a conversation with the aged barman. He had looked over as the door opened, then returned to his conversation, perhaps having not seen who he expected.

Aunt Petunia had a rather alarmed look on her face at the sight of the giant and placed a guiding hand on a pale Dudley's shoulder. Harry noticed Uncle Vernon puff out his chest a little. He was not a man who liked to feel intimidated. Harry had seen him do similar when speaking with the man at the garage.

'Vernon, what do we do now?' hissed Aunt Petunia, over her shoulder at her husband.

'Well she said to ask for…' Uncle Vernon referred to the parchment again, 'Tom.'

He took the lead and strode over to the bar with Aunt Petunia and Dudley practically scurrying along behind him. Harry was busy looking around the unusual pub, and was just wondering _why _the people around the nearest table all had their hoods up when he heard Uncle Vernon's booming voice and dashed over to catch up.

'We are here to speak to Tom.' Uncle Vernon informed the barman, in his most authoritative voice. Harry closed his eyes briefly from embarrassment at hearing his Uncle address someone in this way, although it was not unusual for him.

'That'll be me you're looking for then.' replied the wrinkled, old man. 'New students for Hogwarts I presume?' he cast his eyes over Harry and Dudley.

'Yes, that's right.' replied Uncle Vernon, speaking a little more respectfully now, shocked that this was the man he was looking for.

Tom lifted an old cork clipboard up from a shelf behind the bar.

'Names?' he peered down at Harry and Dudley.

'D-Dudley Dursley.' came Dudley's stuttered reply. If Harry hadn't been so nervous himself, he would have smiled to hear a stuttering Dudley.

Tom searched down his list until he found Dudley's name, picked up a feather quill off the bar, dipped it in a pot of ink stationed by the till and ticked if off with a flourish. He then looked down at Harry expectantly.

'Harry Potter?' Harry offered Tom, not sure that he had the right answer, nervous as he was.

Tom's eyes widened. 'Bless my soul! Harry Potter! I had heard rumours you were coming to Hogwarts this year!' he lifted a hatch on the bar and stepped out, grasping Harry's hand. 'Such an honour to finally meet you! Welcome back!'

Harry did not know what to do. He looked up at his Aunt and Uncle anxiously, but they looked just as bewildered as he. Dudley simply looked a bit miffed at not having received the same greeting. Tom was still shaking his hand when the giant loomed over the little party.

''Arry! What're the chances we'd be 'ere on the same day! And today of all days! Great ter see yer again me lad!' he had a great booming voice and people turned and looked over as he spoke.

Harry managed to extricate his hand from the, now thoroughly overexcited Tom, and step back a few paces, so he could look up at the giant without straining his neck.

'I am sorry, but have we met before?' he asked, thinking he would surely remember if he had met a giant before.

'Well o'course, you won' remember me I suppose,' the giant looked a little embarrassed and shuffled his feet slightly. Harry thought he could see his cheeks reddening through the tangle of hair obscuring most of his face,'bu' I was the one who took yer to yer Aunt and Uncle after yer paren's, well, yer know…' he trailed off. Harry knew what he was referring to of course. His parents had died when he was a baby. So this was who had taken him to his Aunt and Uncles house. He had often wondered who had taken him there, during long spells in his cupboard, wishing whoever that person had been had kept him instead.

'Hagrid's the name. Rubeus Hagrid. I'm the gamekeeper at Hogwart's.' He drew himself up proudly.

'Nice to meet you Mr Hagrid. Well, nice to meet you again.' Harry smiled up. This man might be a giant, and very wild looking, but the way he spoke was so friendly, Harry found it hard not to smile at him. Mr Hagrid twinkled back down at Harry, eyes glittering like little black beetles.

'Just call me Hagrid.' he told Harry.

It was at this moment Harry realised that quite a crowd had formed around them. He looked for his Aunt, Uncle and Dudley and saw them standing not too far away. Aunt Petunia was whispering something hurriedly into Uncle Vernon's ear and nudged him, rather sharply Harry thought, in the ribs. At this, Uncle Vernon marched forward and extended his hand up at Hagrid.

'Vernon Dursley – I am the boy's Uncle.' He pompously proclaimed.

'Boy?' Hagrid responded – looking down at Uncle Vernon, slightly baffled. 'Wha' boy?'

Uncle Vernon looked embarrassed and Harry smirked to himself, liking Hagrid more and more every minute. 'Well, Harry. I am Harry's Uncle.'

'Ah,' said Hagrid, a look of, what Harry believed to be, faux enlightenment crossing his face. He took Uncle Vernon's hand and shook it heartily.

'In that case, pleased to meet you – the names Hagrid. And is this the rest of your family I see?' He indicated to Aunt Petunia and Dudley, standing a few feet away.

'Yes, my wife Petunia and our son Dudley, who will also be attending Hogwarts.' Uncle Vernon informed Hagrid, sounding rather proud Harry noticed, slightly amazed.

Aunt Petunia and Dudley shuffled forward. Dudley looked up at Hagrid and, not knowing what to say, gave a smile, which, unfortunately came out as more of a grimace. Hagrid appreciated the effort though ad smiled back.

'An you're the wonderful folks who took our Harry in. Well I am sure I speak for more'n meself when I say 'Thank you'. James an' Lily, nicer people yeh'd struggle ter find, but of course yeh must be Lily's sister then Petunia. I see yeh must 'ave the same kind heart she had, to take in her little Harry.' Hagrid stopped to wipe a little tear glistening in his eye.

Aunt Petunia looked uncomfortable at his kind words, and pointed her eyes to the ground. She felt ashamed to be given such praise when she felt she wasn't any of the things Hagrid had just called her.

Suddenly, a middle aged man nervously leapt forward from the rest of the crowd.

'Mr Potter, can I just, well, can I say a big thank you and welcome back!' He raised his voice to the end of his statement, looking around at the crowd for support.

'Hear hear!' they all called.

'Erm…thank you.' Harry smiled uneasily back at the man. He didn't know for what he was being thanked, but thought it better to smile and be polite and perhaps find out when there wasn't such a big crowd.

A few more people moved forward and introduced themselves to Harry.

'Doris Crockford Mr Potter – an absolute privilege to meet you!'

'Dedalus Diggle,' the man in the violet top hat who had been sitting at the bar shook Harry's hand enthusiastically 'such an honour to meet you, I cannot express it in words!'

Dudley's eyes widened at the sight of all these people fawning over Harry. What on earth was going on?! Why were they all so impressed to meet Harry? What was so special about him?

Hagrid had shuffled off to talk to Tom the barkeep and returned a moment later, moving through the crowd like a knife through softened butter, dispersing many of the gawkers.

'Righ'. I jus' spoke ter Tom. He asked if I'd show yer'all the Alley. Is that all righ' with you two?' he looked anxiously over at the Durley's.

'Well I suppose we don't know how to get to this blasted Alley, so yes, a guide would be helpful. Is there a fee?' Uncle Vernon enquired, reaching for his wallet.

'Fee?' Hagrid looked puzzled for a moment, then, deciding Uncle Vernon must be pulling his leg, guffawed and slapped him on the back. 'A fee! What are you like?! Come on wi' yeh.'

Harry, shaking one last hand, waved at the people who were still crowded around and dashed off after Hagrid, Dudley at his side.

Aunt Petunia helped her husband up off the floor, looking scandalised over what had just happened, but Hagrid was already heading to a door at the rear of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry and Dudley were jogging in his shadow, so there was no option but to follow, Uncle Vernon trying to dust his suit down as best he could on the way.

As they made were heading towards the door, Dudley spoke to Harry.

'What was that all about?' he demanded.

'Absolutely no idea.' Harry replied truthfully. What had that been about? They kept thanking him and welcoming him back. He hadn't been anywhere had he?

'Ask him then.' Dudley jutted his chin up to Hagrid who was just ahead of them.

Harry, just as curious as Dudley, thought he had the right idea, but wasn't sure how to get Hagrids attention without being rude, but at that moment Hagrid looked around at them as they passed a rickety staircase, and, saving Harry the worry of asking, said,

'Quite a welcome eh Harry? Bet yeh didn't expect that!'

'Erm, well no. Why were all those people wanting to shake my hand Hagrid?'

'Fans 'arry–probably my fault, shouldn'ta said yer name so loudly like tha', but I was so happy ter see yer again! Bu' everyone wants to meet the boy who lived!'

Harry and Dudley looked at each other at Hagrid's last comment, eyebrows raised, and promptly walked into the back of Hagrid who had stopped. He didn't seem to notice this though, and led them all through the door into a little stone courtyard. There were no exits from this courtyard, only the way they had come in. A few hanging baskets hung from a wall to the left, in what once must have been an attempt to smarten the place up, though the flowers which had been in them had long since died.

Uncle Vernon looked around confusedly, then up at Hagrid, who was pulling a pink umbrella out from the pocket of his thick overcoat.

'Expecting rain are you?' he jibed at Hagrid – still a little put out by the 'friendly' back slap he had just received.

'Bear with me a moment, I have to concentrate.' Hagrid said – either not noticing, or choosing to ignore the sarcastic remark from Uncle Vernon. He turned to the wall opposite the door they had just come through, and started counting the red bricks and tapping certain bricks with the end of his umbrella.

At this Uncle Vernon audibly fumed. What was this strange man doing? Was this all some joke? Because he was not amused. He was just about to tell Petunia that they were all leaving and that Dudley would be attending Smeltings, as was supposed to happen in the first instance when he noticed one of the bricks in the centre of the wall begin to wriggle. He double took for a moment, surely he was seeing things? But now more bricks around the centre were quivering about as well. Then they began to shuffle in an outwards pattern and before he knew it he was looking at an archway which looked as though it had been there forever.

He felt his jaw drop. Looking at the family, he found he wasn't the only one standing there looking like a codfish.

Hagrid beamed back at them.

'Welcome, to Diagon Alley.'


	5. Chapter 5 - Gringotts

_Thanks for all the reviews everyone! They are really encouraging. Sorry this chapter was long in the making - it could be a lot longer so have decided to split into two halves so you don't have to wait so long for the update._

_Novalee x_

* * *

Hagrid lead everyone through the archway. Craning his neck back, Dudley saw it tessellating its way back into a solid brick wall again.

'Wow! That was amazing!' he said, looking up at Hagrid who flushed, embarrassed by the admiration.

'So er…' he cleared his throat, 'what's first on the list?' he asked Aunt Petunia. She took the parchment from Uncle Vernon's hand and looked down the list.

'Well, there is a list of books and uniform and then some other equipment. Wand, cauldron, phials, telescope and scales.' She listed. 'Perhaps the uniform first as it will be lighter to carry?' she looked up for Hagrid's opinion and he nodded in agreement.

'Uniform it is then! Madame Malkins is th' best fer clothin', just up at th' end of th' alley. Do yeh need ter exchange money first?'

'Yes, Professor McGonagall mentioned something about wizarding currency. Where was the place she told us to go Pet?' Uncle Vernon asked, looking at his wife.

'Oh, I can't remember!' Aunt Petunia looking all flustered, began to rifle through her handbag in the hope of finding a scrap of paper with the answer written on it.

'It'll be Gringotts you need.' Hagrid saved her panic. 'I need to go meself as it happens so we can all go together. In fact, it's at the very far end o the alley, so let's go there then make our way back up.'

So off they went, walking, rather slowly, down Diagon Alley.

Dudley and Harry needed at least another pair of eyes each to look at everything, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were no better, looking in every direction at all the unusual sights.

The street was cobbled and sloped down gradually, shops and cafes lining down the sides. Shops with stacks of cauldrons outside their doors and different utensils hanging from racks outside their windows, an apothecary selling all sorts of fairytale ingredients, Harry spotted eye of newt in the nearest barrel and moved a bit closer to the rest of the group, not sure if he would enjoy having to ever touch it. Lots of people were milling about, some coming out of shops with bulging bags, others sitting outside café's with steaming mugs of unidentified content. Harry spotted a group of boys who looked a similar age to himself, crowding excitedly around a broomstick in the window of a shop called 'Quality Quidditch Supplies'. Harry could see a sign which advised passer-by's that this was a 'Nimbus 2000 – 'Broom of the Year' '.

'Wow! Mum! Dad!' Dudley suddenly stopped as he spotted a newspaper stand selling a variety of papers and magazines, the most prominent paper seemed to be 'The Dailey Prophet'. The reason he had stopped became apparent to Harry very quickly as he noticed the pictures on the front of the paper were moving. Not like a hologram, but like a tiny little film inside the paper. There was a man in a bowler hat waving up at the group from the front page under a heading of 'Fudge stands by Dragon Laws in Britain.'

Hagrid had stopped as well and looked to see had caught the groups' attention.

'Oh,' he moaned, 'I wish he would scrap that law! I'd love a dragon me.'

'A dragon?' Uncle Vernon, with an air of disdain 'Dragon's don't exist!' Uncle Vernon was pushing his boundaries as it was today, and hearing rubbish like this didn't help. But it was so hard to tell what the truth was and what was just sheer ridiculousness as the line between the two was becoming increasingly blurred this past week or so.

'What're yer on about Vernon?' Hagrid began walking again 'O' course they exist! I wanted one as long as I can remember, but they're illegal to keep as pets in Britain. O' course, there are still wild uns, Welsh Green mainly, but the Ministry does a lot o' work ter keep 'em unknown ter th' muggles.'

'Welsh Green?' Aunt Petunia repeated, faintly.

'Nothing you need ter worry abou' Petunia, never 'ad one bother before 'ave yeh?' Hagrid reasonably reassured her.

'There yeh go!' Hagrid pointed ahead. Aunt Petunia let out a small shriek and grabbed hold of her husband's arm, half expecting a dragon to swoop down out of the sky and scoop her up. But Hagrid was pointing to a large, snowy white building ahead. 'Gringotts. The safest place in the world. 'Cept maybe Hogwarts.'

As they approached the building, the four of them paused. Outside the tall, bronzed doors were two guards in uniforms of scarlet and gold. Harry didn't know what the guards were, but human would have been an incorrect description. They were not tall, only as tall as Harry's shoulder, and had leathery, clever looking faces. One of them had a pointy beard and Harry noticed his long fingers and feet.

'Goblins.' Hagrid informed them all, quietly. 'Very clever creatures, you'd be a fool to try and double-cross a Goblin.'

Hagrid headed for the doors and the others followed quickly behind, Aunt Petunia keeping one hand on Dudley's shoulder and the other buried in the crook of Uncle Vernon's arm. Harry kept close behind, looking at the Goblins nervously as they passed. They were now faced with a second set of doors, this set silver and they had words engraved on them.

Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there.

Even though it was a warm day, Harry felt himself shiver slightly. Dudley looked downright worried about going into the bank at all. Hagrid looked back at them,

'Yeh'd be mad ter try and rob this place.'

He pushed the doors open and they entered the bank. It was a long, tall hall with a maroon and brown marble floor. Teller desks lined each side of the hall and at each of them sat a goblin on a tall stool. Further down the hall doors led off to locations unknown.

Hagrid led them to the nearest desk where Harry could see a goblin examining what looked like bright red rubies through a tiny, but very thick, magnifying glass.

'We'd like ter exchange some money please.' Hagrid asked the goblin.

The goblin looked at Hagrid appraisingly.

'Of course.' his voice was much higher pitched than Harry expected. 'How much would you like to change?'

Hagrid looked at Uncle Vernon who had pulled his wallet from his pocket. He moved towards the desk and spoke with the goblin. Harry couldn't hear what was said, but a few minutes later Uncle Vernon came away with a little sack full of jangling coins.

Hagrid spoke to the goblin again.

'I also have a note here from Professor Dumbledore about the you-know-what in vault 713.'

He rifled through the pockets in his moleskin coat, spilling some dog biscuits onto the counter in his hurry to find the note, the goblin screwing his nose up briefly at this, before recovering his composure. Finally, Hagrid located the note in an inside pocket and passed it over to the goblin who read it very carefully. He scrutinised every word before handing it back to Hagrid.

'Very well. I shall have someone take you down. Griphook!' he called.

Griphook turned out to be another goblin who appeared by his side. 'Please take Mr Hagrid to vault 713.'

Hagrid looked at the family. 'It's a fast trip down to the vault. Anyone want to join me? I reckon these two'd enjoy it.' He nodded at Harry and Dudley. Aunt Petunia looked like she wanted nothing more than to get out of the building and away from the studying looks from the goblins.

'Do you want to go Dudley?' she asked him, stooping slightly to look at his face, a look of concern clouding hers.

'Of course I do.' Dudley replied, indignantly, moving to stand by Hagrid.

'Well, I suppose it's okay. We will wait outside for you; I don't like it in here. They're giving me the creeps' she whispered, looking around furtively. 'Be a good little boy Dudley and we will see you in a few minutes. Be careful.' She leant down to kiss Dudley on the cheek and she and Uncle Vernon left the bank for the sunny Alley outside. Harry felt a twinge of embarrassment for Dudley who had turned pink at his mums fussing.

'Well then! Just us three!' Hagrid scooped his dog biscuits up off the counter, shoving them back into his pocket and turned to follow the goblin, Griphook, who was walking towards a door at the back of the hall. Harry and Dudley hastened to keep up. When they passed through the door, Hagrid stooping slightly, Harry was surprised to see, not more marble, but a stone passageway, lit with flaming torches held in brackets on the walls. To their right was a track, similar to what you would see at a railway, but narrower.

A wooden cart suddenly came hurtling into view and stopped, all by itself, in front of the little group. Griphook indicated that they should get in, and Harry climbed in first and took a seat on a low wooden bench. Dudley looked rather panic stricken, perhaps due to the nefarious nature of the passageway and the quiet which surrounded them. However, after seeing Harry get into the cart, he quickly followed, anxious not to appear scared. Hagrid clambered in and squeezed himself onto the bench opposite them and Griphook sat between Dudley and the edge of the cart. Harry felt Dudley shuffle ever-so slightly closer to himself and he allowed a small smile to escape his lips.

'Onwards to Vault 713!' Griphook announced to no one in particular.

And they were off. The cart rattled off at high speed, through the tunnels. Left, right, right, right, left, middle turning and it continued, sloping downwards the whole time. At one point they passed over a tall bridge, Harry and Dudley leaned to over to see whether the bottom of the ravine was in sight, but a slightly green looking Hagrid pulled them back. Dudley seemed to have forgotten his nerves with the excitement of the cart ride and Harry was really enjoying the breeze pushing his hair back as they flew through the endless passageways. They passed another ravine, this one with stalagmites and stalactites filling the huge expanse of space. Harry couldn't believe all of this was just below the streets of London. Finally, the cart began to slow and eventually stopped, near a tall, metal, vault door. Everyone clambered out of the cart, Hagrid wobbling slightly. There was no handle on the door and Harry wondered momentarily how they were supposed to get inside. What treasures would await them when they did get in? Harry could only imagine what could need protecting at this depth below the surface.

Griphook walked over to the door and, theatrically, ran his finger down the front of it. The door vanished with a quiet 'pop!'.

'Wow!' Harry and Dudley breathed, simultaneously, and then looked at each other, smiling at their matching reactions.

'If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tries that, they get sucked into the vault and held prisoner.' Griphook informed them, looking rather sinister.

'How often do you check whether anyone got pulled inside?' Dudley ventured to ask, not sure whether he wanted to hear the answer or not.

'About once every 10 years.' Griphook smirked back. Dudley didn't like this goblin. He seemed devious.

Harry and Dudley leaned forward to see what treasures were hidden inside, and, momentarily thought it was empty. It was a big, dark room, but the lamps in the brackets had roared into life as the door disappeared. Then Harry sported something. A small, dirty looking package, wrapped in brown paper and string, sitting in the middle of floor in the empty vault.

Hagrid reached forward and took the package, putting it in the inside pocket of his moleskin coat.

'What is that Hagrid?' Harry enquired, curiosity getting the better of him.

'Can't tell yeh tha' 'Arry, secret Hogwarts business tha' is. Prob'ly better not teh mention this to anyone lads.' Hagrid looked at both of the boys until the nodded their agreement.

'Righ, let's get outta here, can't say it's my favourite place in the world down 'ere.'

And with that, they all squeezed back in the cart and it began to rattle them back to the surface.


	6. Chapter 6 - Diagon Alley

_A/N: I can only apologise for the time this chapter was in the making - just started back at university and the work is piled on! Please excuse any typos - I have checked but will have missed some. Thank you for all of your kind reviews, I am really pleased with how this story is going and hope you are too. This is a long chapter as I didn't want to split it in half so enjoy! Please review if you can. Harry's vault isn't written about for a reason. Hagrid doesn't have the key, he was given it by Dumbledore in canon as the Dursleys weren't responding to the owls. So Hagrid probably doesn't even know Harry has a vault. It will all happen in good time. Novalee x_

Dudley spotted his Father and Mother first. They were peering into the window of what appeared to be a bookshop. It had a wide front, with a large bay window on either side of the door. Through these windows Dudley could see what appeared to be books. But they didn't look like the books he was made to read at school. There were some big brown books, the size of suitcases, with thick, heavy looking covers, bright green books which had sprouted little legs and were strutting about the window-sill and tiny little sparkly books which were flying around near the top of the window. Dudley saw a stressed looking shop assistant approach the window with a butterfly net in his hand, and proceed to try and catch one of the small, sparkly books. Dudley decided that he would be very excited to read some of these books!

He approached his parents who turned around with a slight look of relief on their face. As Dudley regaled his shocked looking parents with the tale of their trip to the vault, Harry stood looking through the window at the books on display. The big brown one had writing on it which Harry didn't understand; it didn't appear to be in English. The bright green books which were running about were emblazoned with the title 'Getting in shape for Quidditch Season', and the small sparkly books wouldn't sit still long enough for Harry to make out a title.

Harry turned around to see Uncle Vernon studying the, now slightly worn, parchment.

'Well, some of these books sound ridiculous.' He was grumbling. 'A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration? What on earth is that when it's at home?'

'Transfiguration is changing one thing into another.' Aunt Petunia replied offhandedly. Everyone looked at her in surprise, even Hagrid raised his eyebrows. A fleeting look of shock crossed her face before she regained her composure. 'I remember my sister, your mother,' she nodded at Harry, 'talking about it when we were younger.'

Uncle Vernon merely grunted and looked back at the list.

''The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection' –I suppose that'll be like Karate then? You'll be good at that Dudley!' He visibly brightened at the idea of something he could relate to.

Hagrid who was standing nearest to Harry asked Harry, 'What's karate?'

'Oh, it's when people fight in a special way to defend themselves.'

'Oh, you mean when they've 'ad a disagreemen'?'

'Something like that.' Harry responded, not sure how to explain exactly what karate is. He made a mental note to try and find a book for Hagrid to read about it, wondering briefly if there would be one in this shop, it certainly looked like you would be able to buy anything in there!

'Hagrid, before we go in, could you please explain the money to us?' Aunt Petunia enquired. 'It is very different to what we have at home.'

'Well, let's see,' Hagrid looked at the selection of coins in her upturned hand. 'The gold ones are Galleons, the silver, Sickles and the tiny bronze ones are Knuts. Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle.'

'Le's be avin' yer then.' Hagrid led the way into the shop, stooping to get through the doorway. The Dursleys followed and Harry bought up the rear.

Once inside, Harry looked around in wonder. Every possible surface was covered with books of one kind or another. Towering bookcases surrounded all of the walls and collections of stand-alone bookcases and table displays were spotted about the room, along with squishy armchairs here and there. To the left of the shop was a wide Spiral staircase, and next to that was a wooden sign detailing what was to be found on each floor.

_Ground Floor: Home Conveniences and Nourishment_

_First Floor: School Supplies_

_Second Floor: Potions and Remedies_

_Third Floor: Defense and Charms_

And the list went on, right up to;

_Seventh Floor: Fiction and Readers Corner_

Harry hoped they would have the change to visit all of the floors. Dudley had also seen this wooden sign and pointed it out to his mother. She led the way and everyone followed up the staircase to the first floor, which was much the same as the ground floor except it was a lot more colourful, with banners and bright colourful signs advertising a variety of books.

A shop assistant dressed in a long beige robe leapt over to them and asked,

'Hogwarts is it?' in a smooth, salesman's voice.

'That's right.' Said Uncle Vernon, his hand proudly placed on Dudley's shoulder, Harry noticed. Harry felt a little twinge at the sight of this. Was it happiness? Pride? Jealously? He wasn't sure. It was nice to see uncle Vernon proud of Dudley for being a wizard, given how much he originally despised the idea. Harry just wished he had someone to be proud of him, to see someone smile proudly like that for one of Harry's accomplishments. But it didn't do to dwell on these things, and the shop keeper was enquiring as to which year Dudley was going to be in so he could get the correct books for him.

'He will be in the first year.' Uncle Vernon stated, matter of factly. As the salesman turned to collect the books for Dudley, Aunt Petunia spoke up.

'Excuse me!' The man turned back, all smiles and grace, 'We will need two sets of books, Harry will also be in the first year.'

'Oh I do apologise madam, I hadn't spotted the young one there. I shall bring two sets of books immediately.' With that he swept away, his robes causing a stir in the air as they went.

Harry looked up at his aunt, momentarily surprised she had spoken up for him, and she glanced at him, giving him a little smile, before turning her attention back to Dudley who was asking if he could go and explore the rest of the shop.

With promises not to leave the shop and to meet his parents by the till in 15 minutes, Dudley turned to the stairs, planning on starting on the top floor and working his way down, before he turned and looked back.

'You coming?' he enquired of Harry.

Harry, keen himself to see the rest of this interesting shop, didn't need asking twice. Leaving his Aunt and Uncle discussing the extra reading books Professor McGonagall had recommended, he followed Dudley back to the stairs.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Dudley were standing by the till waiting for the transactions to be completed.

Dudley had come down the stairs with an armful of books, something no-one had ever expected to see! His mother looked through them, and, after removing a few (Curses for the Modern Wizard and Potions: The Dark Side of the Cauldron to mention a few.) She agreed he could have them. As she had placed them on the counter, along with the two stacks of school books and extra reading materials she had picked up, she looked down at Harry, who was standing quietly, examining a display of book on the counter about something called 'Quidditch'.

'Did you want a book for yourself Harry? Dudley has got rather a lot, perhaps you would like one?'

Before Harry could answer, Dudley piped up.

'See, I told you she wouldn't mind!'

Aunt Petunia raised her eyebrows in question at Dudley.

'He wanted one of the books upstairs, but wouldn't bring it down. I told him you wouldn't mind, but he still put it back.'

'Harry, if you would like a book, you can have one. What about that one you have there?' Aunt Petunia asked kindly. Harry, looking slightly taken aback, as his Aunt was being kinder to him today than any time in his memory, wasn't sure what to do.

'Anything else Madame?' The witch at the till asked.

Aunt Petunia picked up one of the books on the stand about Quidditch and placed it on the counter.

'Yes we'll take one of these as well thank you.'

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Aunt Petunia, Harry and Dudley were walking out of Flourish and Blotts where they had bought parchment, quills and ink. Aunt Petunia had treated Harry and Dudley to a pot of colour changing ink each and had also bought them each a new writing set. Harry knew she had wanted to buy one so Dudley would write them letters, but wasn't sure why she had bought him a writing set as he really had no-one to write to. It was very kind of her though and he was very happy with the gift, although he knew there was a nearly new writing set in his bedroom at home.

Uncle Vernon and Hagrid had gone back to the Leaky Cauldron while Aunt Petunia and the boys did some more of the shopping. Harry thought this was because school clothes were next on the list. Uncle Vernon hated clothes shopping. Harry was surprised however, at how quickly Uncle Vernon had taken to Hagrid's company. Uncle Vernon hated anything unusual, and Hagrid certainly was that!

'Well it was really nice in there! I remember my sister, your Mother, 'she nodded at Harry, 'used to love stationery. Every summer she would come back from here with bags full of fancy quills and ink and she would write me letters in all different colours and styles. An owl would deliver them! I can't believe I have never visited this place before, not once.' She looked rather wistful, but then seemed to come out of her reverie and marched them off to Madame Malkins to buy their uniforms.

Madame Malkin was a small, plump witch with white hair pulled back into a bun with a variety of pins and needles sticking out of it. She wore long robes of midnight blue velvet.

When they entered her shop, she greeted them cheerily and asked if they were Hogwarts students. Harry couldn't help but smile at her as he nodded as had such a friendly disposition.

She led Harry and Dudley to an area at the back of the shop and asked them both to hop up onto the stools which stood there waiting. Aunt Petunia busied herself looking around the shop at the different fabrics and wools on sale, along with the more unusual things to her such as 'Self Knitting Needles' and 'Safety Needles – sew only the fabric, not your fingers!'.

A blonde boy with a pointed face was already standing on a stool at the back of the shop. He looked up as he heard Dudley and Harry approach.

'Hello – Hogwarts too?' He asked as black fabric wound itself around him.

Harry and Dudley simply nodded. They had never met a wizard who was their age before. Perhaps he would be in their year at school.

'Will you be in the first year?' Harry ventured, bravely.

'Oh yes,' the boy replied, 'although Father says I will be well ahead of the rest of the first year as I have, of course, had private tuition in preparation for school. Do you know what house you'll be in?' He snapped his head up as he asked the question.

Harry and Dudley exchanged a startled glance. Know? Didn't Professor McGonagall tell them they would be placed into a house when they arrived?

'No, why, do you?' Dudley asked.

'Well I suppose not technically, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, my whole family has been for generations. I don't know what I'd do if I was in another house – Imagine being placed in Gryffindor, or worse, Hufflepuff! I think I'd leave don't you?'

At this, Harry gave a tight grimace as he recalled how he had considered Hufflepuff could be a good house for him. And why shouldn't it be? The traits of a Hufflepuff sounded very noble to Harry – loyalty is very important.

'Do you play Quidditch?' The boy asked.

Dudley looked horrified – what was Quidditch when it was at home?

Harry however felt slightly more prepared to answer this question, even though he had only briefly looked through the book in the shop, he at least knew what quidditch was. Unfortunately, as much as he wished he could reply with a yes, he couldn't.

'No, we don't.' He answered for his cousin as well, saving him the embarrassment.

'Oh.' The boy didn't seem like he really cared either way. Harry didn't particularly like this boy and almost hoped not to be in Slytherin if that is where he was to reside in Hogwarts.

'My name is Draco. What're your names? Are you brothers or something? You don't look much alike.' He asked

'I'm Dudley,' Dudley said, not sure what to make of this boy.

'Harry.'

Just then, Madame Malkin appeared, waved a wand and the black fabric stopped wrapping around Draco.

'Okay Master Malfoy, that's you done. I'll have these delivered for you.'

'See you at Hogwarts I guess.' Draco drawled back at them.

Harry and Dudley muttered their thanks and exchanged slightly alarmed glances with each other. Is this what all wizarding children were like?

Madame Malkin did not take long to fit their school robes and they were soon back outside in the sunshine, their robes were to be sent on to the house. Aunt Petunia had bought some different fabrics to experiment with at home and looked to be very happy with her purchase.

Just then, Harry heard a clang and a loud 'squawk' around the next bend. Aunt Petunia and Dudley looked up, slightly perplexed and they all hurried around the bend to see what on earth it was.

There stood Hagrid, holding a cage in his hand, with a beautiful, white snowy owl in it. Uncle Vernon was sitting on the floor next to an upturned cage with an alarmed looking brown owl in, which had massive yellow eyes, looking out in panic, apparently this was where the squawk had come from.

'Get up Durlsey, what're yer like?!' Hagrid held out a hand to uncle Vernon who righted the owl cage and pulled himself up.

Aunt Petunia looked faint at the sight of the two owls.

'Erm, Vernon, what are these?'

'Well, Hagrid was telling me how he must get Harry a present, for all the birthdays he's missed, and, on account of it being his birthday today. He also wanted to get Dudley a present for all the birthdays he has missed of his. Isn't that kind of him Pet? And he has been telling me all about owls and how useful they are. It's the only contact Dudley'll have with us whilst he's away! Hagrid says the Royal Mail don't deliver to Hogwarts.'

Harry's eyes widened in shock. A present for him?! He had completely forgotten it was his birthday today, it was usually of little consequence and for the last few years it had passed with nothing so much as a mention, that, coupled with all of the excitement today and he had forgotten it completely! Aunt Petunia looked to the ground guiltily at the mention of Harry's birthday. It was true, they usually ignored it completely, but given the leaf she was trying to turn she couldn't help feel that she ought to have celebrated it in some way this year. She hadn't even bought him a card.

Hagrid handed Harry the white owl. 'She's a snowy owl.' And he nodded at the owl Uncle Vernon was passing to Dudley, 'and he's a Pacific Screech Owl. As yeh probably just heard!' Hagrid guffawed.

Dudley's eyes lit up – he looked up to his mother, who was in turn looking at his father. The look on her face was not as happy as those on her son and nephew's faces.

What was Vernon thinking? Had he even stopped to consider the mess these birds would make? Not to mention the noise.

She looked closely at Vernon again. Was he in his right mind? He was laughing away with Hagrid about something or other. How long had they been in the Leaky Cauldron? Surely he couldn't be drunk? Vernon didn't really drink much at home, the occasional sherry in the evening, but very rarely. Watching him wobble on his feet slightly, she had no other option but to come to the conclusion that he was perhaps slightly worse for wear. That would certainly explain his clouded judgment in allowing Hagrid to present the boys with an owl apiece!

Petunia would have to take matters into her own hands. She wasn't going to parade Vernon around Diagon Alley in this state. She spotted a small tea shop a little further down the street. Perhaps he and Hagrid could get some coffee whilst she took the two, thoroughly over excited, boys to get the last few bits of shopping.

'Vernon, why don't you and Hagrid go and get some coffee at that little tea shop just down there?' she interrupted their guffaws pointedly.

'Oh,' Vernon looked around guiltily, remembering himself for a moment. His wife didn't look best pleased with him. Perhaps he had better do as told. 'Good idea darling. Are you sure you can manage? Let us take the bags and owls from you for now.' He said, trying to get back into her good books.

Moments later Aunt Petunia, Harry and Dudley were standing, shoppingless, in the middle of Diagon Alley.

'Well, we just need to buy,' Aunt Petunia consulted her list once again, 'cauldrons, glass phials, telescope, brass scales and, of course, wands.'

Harry and Dudley exchanged excited glances at the last item on the list.

'And,' she continued 'we must get your birthday present Harry.' Aunt Petunia then turned and, without looking for Harry's reaction to this news, began to walk to shop with all the cauldrons stacked outside.

It only took ten minutes to buy what they needed in there, then they headed down the street in search of a wand shop. They soon found a small, dark looking shop called 'Ollivanders'.

'Oh, this doesn't look very pleasant,' Aunt Petunia wrinkled her nose slightly at the unsightly shop in front of them. 'But it's the only wand shop I have seen so it will have to do.'

Dudley rushed forward and pushed the door open. A bell tinkled in the back of the shop somewhere and the three of them filed in. It was a small shop, with little light coming through the dirty window. All around the walls were shelves, right up to the ceiling, and on these shelves boxes were stacked neatly, one on top of another. It had the feeling of a library, and no one wanted to be the first one to break the silence.

'Good afternoon'

An old man with tufty, white hair and wearing a faded waistcoat came through a door behind the counter and made them all jump slightly. He peered down at them through thick glasses.

'Ah yes, I wondered when I'd be seeing you here Mr Potter.' He spoke softly and deliberately. Harry would have struggled to hear him if it wasn't so quiet in the shop.

How did this man know Harry's name? Dudley looked at Harry with a face full of puzzlement which Harry returned to him. He didn't know how this man knew his name. He had certainly never met him before, he was sure he would have remembered such a strange man. Harry looked up at his Aunt but she was looking intently at the man before them.

'You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself buying her wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.

He walked around the counter, still staring intently at Harry, who shifted his weight on his feet uncomfortably.

'Your father on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it, but, as we all know, the wand chooses the wizard.'

'And this must be your Aunt I assume?' The man seemed to notice the other people in the room and extended his hand to Aunt Petunia and introduced himself.

'Ollivander- Garrick Ollivander, an absolute delight to meet you.'

'Petunia Dursley.' Aunt Petunia replied, somewhat uncomfortably.

'And who is this young man?' Ollivander looked at Dudley with interest.

'My son, Dudley, he will be attending Hogwarts with Harry this year.' Aunt Petunia pulled Dudley slightly closer to herself.

'Wonderful!' Ollivander clapped his hands together breaking the eerie atmosphere in the small shop 'Well, let's get started shall we? Hold your arms out in front of you.'

He pulled two tape measures from the front pocket of his waistcoat with a flick of a wand he had taken from up his sleeve they leapt into action, measuring Harry and Dudley. They measured each of their arms, legs, their height, finger lengths, around their heads and even between their nostrils! Harry and Dudley were grinning in delight at seeing such exciting magic. Even Petunia was watching with much interest.

As the tape measures did their thing, Ollivander continued to talk to them. 'The reason for all the measuring is because we must find the perfect wand for you. Each of my wands has a core of a powerful magical substance. No two wands are the same. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and dragon heartstrings. You must always use your own wand to get the best results as using another's wand will never yield the same results.'

'Okay, I think that is enough.' He clapped his hands again and the tape measures crumpled to the ground.

'You first Mr Dursley. Try this.' He had taken a box from the shelf behind him and handed a wand to Dudley from the box. 'Oak and phoenix feather, 9 inches, nippy wand.'

Dudley took the wand and stood there looking at it.

'Well go on, give it a wave.' Mr Ollivander encouraged.

Dudley felt rather stupid waving, what seemed to essentially be, a stick, around in his hand, but did as told. Harry was glad Dudley had gone first as he himself had no idea what he was supposed to do either.

Mr Ollivander snatched the wand back, leaving Dduley looking dumbstruck.

'Nope! Try this one. Ash. Dragon Heartstring, 13 inches, a little more flexible.'

Dudley waved this waved, but still nothing happened.

Mr Ollivander proceeded to snatch a few more wands back, and then finally;

'This should do the trick: Mahogany. Dragon heartstring . Twelve and a half inches.'

Dudley took the wand and waved it. A jet of water shot out of the end of it, soaking Mr Ollivander. Dudley looked horrified at what he had done, he hadn't meant for that to happen! Harry allowed himself a little chuckle as it was a rather amusing sight. Petunia dashed forward to assist Mr Ollivander, but he merely shrugged her off, and pointed his own wand at himself and was instantly dry.

'Bravo Mr Durlsey! Fantastic! What a wonderful wand to have chosen you. I think you will do very well at charms should you put the work in.'

Dudley beamed around at his mother who Harry thought he saw dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a hanky.

'And now for your Mr Potter.'

Harry, feeling slightly more prepared having just witnessed Dudley's hunt for the correct wand, stepped forward. Mr Ollivander passed a wand to Harry.

'Beechwood and Dragon Heartstring. Nine inches, Nice and flexible.'

Harry waved it as he had seen Dudley do, and, as he had with Dudley, Mr Ollivander snatched the wand away.

'Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try…'

Harry tried waving this wand, but had barely raised his hand when it was taken away again. Harry tried 6 more wands and was beginning to feel worried that no wand would be suitable for him and he would be told that he wasn't a wizard after all.

Mr Ollivander however seemed to be getting more animated the longer the hunt took.

'Tricky customer eh? Don't look so worried Mr Potter, we'll find your perfect match here. Now, I wonder, unusual combination of holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. Why not? Try this one.'

He passed the wand to Harry. Before Harry could even raise his arm he felt a rush of warmth fly up his arm and before he knew it, sparks had erupted from the end of the wand.

Mr Ollivander burst into a round of applause. 'Marvellous Harry! Good job! Well, well, well, how curious…how very curious indeed.' He had taken Harry's wand and was wrapping it up, back into the box, still muttering, 'Curious…'.

'I'm sorry, but what's curious?' Harry had to ask, was there something wrong with him, or his new wand? Aunt Petunia was looking puzzled at the shift in Mr Ollivanders behaviour. What was he muttering about?

Mr Ollivander paused in his wrapping of the wand and looked up, right at Harry.

'I remember every wand I've ever sold Mr Potter. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather. Just one mind you. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, its brother gave you that scar.' He indicated to the scar on Harry's forehead. 'Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter…After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great.'

Harry had had this scar as long as he could remember. One of the first questions he could remember asking his Aunt was how he had got it. 'In the car crash when your parents were killed.' had been the response. Things didn't seem to be adding up quite right today. Had another wizard caused the car crash? Perhaps Hagrid would be able to shed some light.

Aunt Petunia paid for the wands and hurried the boys out of the shop. If Mr Ollivander had frightened Dudley and Harry, that was nothing to the chills he had sent down her spine as he spoke of Harry's wand.

* * *

Shopping completed, they headed down to the tea shop where Uncle Vernon and Hagrid were sititng, surrounded by empty mugs. Harry spotted the two owls and couldn't wait to get home to get to know them better. He had never felt such happiness in his life and hoped it wasn't just for today.

'Have yeh got time for a drink before yeh train?' Hagrid asked Aunt Petunia.

'We can fit one in I'm sure,' she smiled.

She, Harry and Dudley pulled up seats to the table and hot chocolates were promptly delivered for the boys and a coffee for Aunt Petunia.

'Oh hullo Professor!' Hagrid plucked a man out of thin air. He was a nervous looking young man with a thin, pale face.

'Oh – H-H-Hagrid. D-Didn't see you th-there.' the Professor stuttered back. He looked terrified at the sight of Hagrid and his eyes darted towards the door.

'Harry, Dudley, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts.' They both held out their hands and greeted the Professor. Hagrid in turn introduced Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to the Professor.

'Which subject do you teach young man?' Uncle Vernon boomed in enquiry.

'D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts.' Quirrell looked terrified at the thought of his subject. 'N-Not that you'll n-need it eh Potter?' he looked at Harry and let a nervous laugh out as Harry smiled politely back in return, not really sure why this man would think he wouldn't need to learn his subject.

'I m-must dash I'm a-afraid – I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires.'

Everyone bid their farewells to the anxious Professor and returned to their drinks.

'Hagrid,' Harry ventured, not knowing when he might get another opportunity. 'Mr Ollivander told me my wand is the brother of the wand which gave me this scar.' Harry indicated to his forehead.

A hush fell around the table. Aunt Petunia thought she knew what Ollivander had been speaking about, but would very much like to not be the one who had to explain it to Harry. Hopefully Hagrid would explain better than she could.

'Well is that so? Very interesting Harry, I reckon yeh'll be a very powerful wizard in the future. He Who Must Not be Named was incredibuly powerful, evil, but very powerful all the same.'

'Yes, but who is He Who Must Not be Named?'

Hagrid looked at Aunt Petunia in puzzlement. Had she never told Harry of his past and how he came to live with them? Apparantly not it seemed, he thought as she looked away guiltily. Well, someone was going to have to tell him. Hagrid decided to go ahead and explain, Petunia probably had her reasons for not having explained well enough. Merlin knows what Dumbledore had written in that letter all those years ago, it could have blown away before morning for all he knew.

'Well Harry, years ago, there was this wizard who went bad. Bad as yeh could go. Even to hear his name was to terrify people to the depths of their souls.'

'What was his name?' Dudley piped up.

Hagrid looked worried, he never said the name if he could help it.

'Voldemort.' Aunt Petunia answered her sons question. Everyone looked around in shock. She remembered that name well enough from Dumbledore's letter. He was the one who killed her sister.

'Tha's…Tha's right.' Hagrid agreed. 'Well, about twenty years ago, he started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too – some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was getting' himself power, all right. Dark days, didn't know who ter trust. Didn't dare get friendly with strangers…terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course some stood up to him – an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.

'Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch a' wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Isn't that righ' Petunia?' Hagrid looked over at her for confirmation. She merely nodded, absorbed as she was in the story. She remembered the day her sister got a letter telling her she was Head Girl. Their parents had been so proud.

'Well on the night of Hallowe'en ten years ago, You-Know-Who turned up in the village where you were all living. You were only a year old Harry. He came ter yer house an' – an' – '

He sniffed and then blew his nose loudly on a spotted handkerchief he had produced from his pocket.

'Sorry,' he said. 'But it's that sad – knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find – anyway –

'You-Know-Who killed 'em. 'An then – an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing – he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. That scar on your forehead is the mark left by the powerful, evil curse he threw at you.

'No one know why you lived – no-one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em. The curse rebounded and killed him. Well, they say killed, I don't reckon he had enough human left in him to die. But something about you stumped him that nigh'. That's why you're famous 'arry. You're the boy who lived.


End file.
